Disposal
by kenzimone
Summary: A 'State of Fear' fic: She arrives in New York late on October 14 and spends the morning of the following day shopping.


**Title**: Disposal  
**Author**: kenzimone  
**Disclaimer**: Don't own.**  
Rating**: PG**  
Word count**: 600**  
Summary**: A _State of Fear_ fic: She arrives in New York late on October 14 and spends the morning of the following day shopping.  
**Note**: Written as an assignment for my writing course, in which I was supposed to take a scene from the book and rewrite it from another perspective, using a maximum of 600 words.

* * *

She arrives in New York late on October 14 and spends the morning of the following day shopping. By mid afternoon she's in an elevator, arms full of brightly colored shopping bags and feet tired, making her way up to the rented penthouse apartment.

The lease isn't in her name (nor, for that matter, is the credit card with which she purchased five hundred dollars worth of shoes a few hours earlier) but the flat offers a magnificent view of the city, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. She stands by the windows for a moment, bags deserted by the foot of the large king sized bed, and places her fingertips against the glass. It's cold, and she shivers slightly before stepping back and drawing the drapes closed.

The television is a large flat screen mounted on the wall opposite the bed. She picks up the remote from the bedside table and turns it on, zapping past numerous cooking and talk shows before settling on a news channel. Toeing her high heels off her feet she walks over to the large desk and plucks the complimentary champagne bottle from out of its cooler. She pours herself a glass as the bottle sweats small drops onto the surface of the desk and then she settles down on the bed, idly sipping at her drink.

By the time the first waves hit California two hours later, she's on her fourth glass and the champagne is lukewarm and flat against the back of her throat.

...

It's not much later in the evening when she hears the lock of the penthouse door click open. She's buzzed, feels a bit light on her feet. _Something went wrong_, she thinks. _It was supposed to be... more_. No one ever told her exactly what was going to happen, but she's got a feeling that something did actually go terribly wrong. She lays a hand across her chest, feels her heart beat in a frantic matter. She's sweating.

Wayne can move soundlessly when he wants to. He's built like a brick house, like a rhino (looks like one, too), but he moves like a dancer. And now he's standing silent and still in the hallway, just shy of entering the room. She doesn't want to look in his direction.

"Marisa," he says, and his accent makes her name sound boorish and crude.

"_Froussard_," she spits. "Coward."

"Now don't be that way, Marisa."

She can see him move out of the corner of her eye, tracks his hand as it slips behind him and tugs the semi-automatic from the waistline of his pants. The sound of him checking the magazine cuts through the room, overpowering the dull drone of the newscaster on the television. There's going to be snow in northern Europe, far earlier in the season than normal. _Global warming strikes again_, the woman on the screen says.

"Things are a mess, Marisa," Wayne says. "We gotta clean up any loose ends."

She stands, spins around and hurls the empty champagne flute at him. Her aim is off and he doesn't move, just stares at her as the glass shatters against the wall behind him.

"Do it," she screams. "Do it, then, _froussard_!"

He raises the handgun and aims it at her head. He takes his time, like he's carefully lining up his shot.

She laughs, a crazed sound in the spacious flat, and bares her teeth at him in a mockery of a smile. "Oh _Chéri_, you don't _dare-_"

She's dead before she hits the floor.

* * *

After reading the book I was quite curious about what happened to Marisa and Jimmy/William/(and now Wayne) in the end. I was amused when they showed up and tried to con Morton on September 13, but if I'm not mistaken that is the last we saw/heard of them. I figure that after the tsunami heist didn't go as planned Marisa was probably swiftly disposed of, so this is my take on how that might have happened.


End file.
